// think of the sun that shaped them //
The Caretaker was still not as familiar with the Hollowed Grounds as she was with other lands. Its history had been shrouded behind barriers and wars, then Ascended controversies and Voice debacles, so by the time it had been altered and changed by another series of battles, it remained relatively new, vast, and unexplored to Lena’s eyes.
With a more adventurous, purposeful spirit instead of resigned or melancholic, she’d chatted away with Zavien as they flew from skyport to skyport, and then meandered their way through to the series of isles and greenery, abundant with wildlife and plants alike. Though she only looked for one in particular, the Attuned still found herself snagging a few other noteworthy supplies; like berries that didn’t grow in the Celestine, and placing them in her bag for safekeeping.
Further enticed by the wildflowers nearby, and the insects buzzing around the sanction of what appeared to be a modest stream, she skillfully walked through the long, waving grass, thoroughly tempted by the area. “Sweetgrass supposedly smells like vanilla, so we should be able to find it easily.” Grinning, as if some grand conspiracy, rather than simplistic endeavors, she hastened another idea. “Then we can snag extra for baking.” Humming a little as they walked, and paying mind to Mittens’ occasional drifting and sniffing about, she inclined her head back to the Dragoon. “Have you been to the Grounds much?”
With a more adventurous, purposeful spirit instead of resigned or melancholic, she’d chatted away with Zavien as they flew from skyport to skyport, and then meandered their way through to the series of isles and greenery, abundant with wildlife and plants alike. Though she only looked for one in particular, the Attuned still found herself snagging a few other noteworthy supplies; like berries that didn’t grow in the Celestine, and placing them in her bag for safekeeping.
Further enticed by the wildflowers nearby, and the insects buzzing around the sanction of what appeared to be a modest stream, she skillfully walked through the long, waving grass, thoroughly tempted by the area. “Sweetgrass supposedly smells like vanilla, so we should be able to find it easily.” Grinning, as if some grand conspiracy, rather than simplistic endeavors, she hastened another idea. “Then we can snag extra for baking.” Humming a little as they walked, and paying mind to Mittens’ occasional drifting and sniffing about, she inclined her head back to the Dragoon. “Have you been to the Grounds much?”
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
